


Forgive Me Father

by lovelikerain611



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blasphemy, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Priest Kink, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1361644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelikerain611/pseuds/lovelikerain611
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was just something about Dean in that collar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive Me Father

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImpalaDreams (impaladreams)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impaladreams/gifts).



> This is borderline crack fic.
> 
> I need to explain you all a thing. ImpalaDreams is a fucking monster who started flooding my dash with pictures of team Free Will in priest get-up. She was assisted by the equally monstrous inked-sea. And it kind of devolved from there. Last night I got sloppy drunk and this morning I sat down and punched this out.
> 
> Basically, I'm now going to hell, but I kind of like it.
> 
> Also, this contains a shameless Twilight reference, so don't hate on me too hard.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you said, your voice breathy.

Dean swallowed and you bit your lip, watching his neck move under the collar. “Y/N…” he started but you crawled into his lap.

“And I’m about to sin again,” you added, leaning in to kiss at his ear.

He and Sam were getting ready to go out and con the public—they were investigating a possible ghoul—and they’d had to break out the priest outfits.

You loved the priest outfits.

Dean groaned as you moved your mouth down his neck, licking and sucking at the skin. “Damn, baby,” he said softly, reaching up to rest a hand on your lower back.

You grunted softly and reached up to pull at the black blazer he was wearing. He slipped it off and then reached up to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you in for a rough kiss.

Good morning, Father.

You smirked and reached to pull at the buttons of his clergy shirt. He let you, leaning back in the bed and watching you, his face just the slightest bit exasperated.

You chuckled and fumbled the collar out of his shirt, setting it aside before sliding it off his shoulders, your hands pressing against the muscles of his arms.

“You’re so kinky,” he grumbled, helping you get his shirt off. “Whoever said you should do virgins because all they want is vanilla is a liar.”

“I’m not a virgin anymore,” you protested, dropping to your knees to work at the buttons of his pants. “You fixed that for me, Father.”

He sighed and arched his hips to shimmy out of the jeans.

“Maybe I should start my confession there,” you sighed, reaching for the outline of his cock through his boxer briefs. You rubbed your hand up the outline slowly, watching Dean.

He arched his hips against you and groaned softly and you smirked.

“I mean, really,” you said softly, pulling his briefs down, “you don’t have anyone to blame but yourself for making me kinky.” You reached for his length, stroking it gently. “If all you wanted was vanilla sex, then,” you shrugged, pulling at his cock carefully, “that’s all you should have offered.”

He snorted in disbelief, but it turned into a groan as you bent to take him into your mouth.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he grunted, gripping the sheets. “Fuck.”

“That’s next,” you replied cheekily, releasing his cock and pumping it a few more times with your hand. You worked him with your hand until his hips were thrusting gently and then you let your hand fall from his length, reaching up to cup his face.

“Forgive me Father,” you said huskily, crawling up his body. “For I have sinned,” you pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I have had sex with a man I am not married to,” you whispered, licking a trail from the underside of his jaw to where his ear met his neck, “lots of sex,” you added, drawing his earlobe into your mouth and sucking on it gently before biting at the shell of his ear and moving down his neck, “kinky sex,” you continued, pressing your lips against his collarbone, “I have taken the Lord’s name in vain,” you said, sucking a bruise onto his shoulder. “Over and over again,” you added, kissing down his bicep. He twitched under you and you smirked. “Forgive me, Father,” you started again. “For I have sinned.” You spread your legs, straddling him, feeling his tip pressing against you. You sank down onto him and your eyes closed for a moment. “You feel nice,” you whispered, offering him a quiet smile.

He grunted softly and reached up to brush your hair out of your face, rubbing his hands down your shoulders to your hands, to link his fingers with yours. “Not nearly as nice as you feel, I can promise you that,” he replied gently and you chuckled quietly before moving your hips over him. He grunted and released your hands in favor of your hips, helping you grind against him.

You leaned down to kiss his cheek gently, and he pumped his hips to fill you as you leaned against his chest.

“Forgive me father, for I have sinned,” you said softly, mouthing your lips across his neck. “And I’m about to sin again,” you grunted as he twitched under you. “Will you be my next sin, Father?” you asked softly, rolling your hips over him. 

He whimpered and gripped your hips tightly, his hips pumping softly under you. “Gladly,” he ground out and you chuckled, lifting up and then down again.

“You feel so good, baby girl,” he grunted softly, watching you above him. You panted and rode his cock, your hands pressed against his chest to give you some kind of leverage. “Yeah, that’s it,” he encouraged. “That’s it.” He braced one hand against your hip and moved the other between your bodies to press against your clit.

You groaned and your eyes slid shut as he moved his thumb against you in firm circles. 

“That’s it,” he said again, his voice gentle. “Fuck, baby,” he added as your walls spasmed around him.

You moaned and rolled your hips over him.

He grunted and shifted under you and your stomach clenched as his finger stayed firm and even on your clit.

“Dean,” you managed, bracing your hand against his shoulder. “Oh, fuck. Dean, I’m—”

“Yeah,” he encouraged, “That’s right. Come on, baby, let it go.”

You moaned raggedly, your hips moving faster. “Dean—I—fuck—I can’t—oh hell. Oh shit,” you heaved, feeling the coil in your belly wind tight. “Dean, I’m gonna—”

“Let it go, baby girl, come on.” He changed the pressure of his fingers on you and that did it.

You jerked roughly, your back arching as you came, your hips pumping roughly through your orgasm. He crested a few seconds after you did, grunting softly as he matched the pace of your hips with his own, his fingers white-knuckled and tight on your hips, shooting his seed into you.

“Fuck,” you panted, collapsing against him in a sweaty heap as you both came down from your orgasms. “We need to do the forgive me Father more often.”

“You’re going to hell,” he grunted, shifting so that you were nestled more comfortably against him.

You hummed in agreement and contentment, tucking yourself against his side. He rubbed his hand up and down your back slowly. “That’s okay,” you replied, your words slow and slurred with relaxation, “You’ll just come rescue me.”

He scoffed and turned to press a kiss to the top of your head. You grinned. “You are way too confident about that.”

“Mmh, you would,” you replied, feeling sleep tug at the edge of your consciousness. “Who would you have kinky sex with? You did deflower me.” You yawned and cuddled up against him closer. “You have, like, an obligation to me, to my soul.”

He snorted and you nestled your head against his chest. “C’mon, didn’t you read Twilight? If you deflower someone, you…owe them. You’re like…” you yawned again, wider this time, “responsible for them.”

Dean chuckled softly and combed his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you say, baby girl,” he said gently.

“Mmh, whatever,” you slurred comfortably. “You know I’m right.”

Your last thought was a warm chuckle that vibrated deep in Dean’s chest, soft against your cheek, before you were gone, deep in dreams about Dean’s ass in those perfectly fitting black slacks.


End file.
